Meaning
by spockandawe
Summary: An anonymous non-bender shows a little support for the Equalist movement and is confronted by Korra.


It was a small, silly act of defiance, but it was the best I could do. I would never have had the courage to rebel in any meaningful way. No, all I could manage was sneaking around the quietest back alleys, gluing blotchy, crumpled posters to the walls where nobody was ever likely to notice them. When I felt daring, I brought paint to draw a red circle on the cobblestones or on the side of an abandoned house. Amon. Equality.

I knew, I _knew_ it was all stupid and worthless. The rebellion didn't depend on anyone like me. The people who carried the movement forward felt the anger deep in their chests. It was a burning rage that drove them onward, pushed them to new heights. I was just tired. I was a just a worn-out worker who never did anything worth remembering and probably never would.

I used to have bigger plans. When my older brother joined the Earth King's army, we were all prouder than words could describe. He was a bender, and my parents had always said he'd go far. I wanted to be just like him. When I played with my siblings, I used to pretend I was the Earth King's most trusted general and I directed my sisters and friends through the most epic battles I could imagine. When my brother came home, all I wanted to do was tell him about the wars I'd fought and won, and at first he smiled and laughed, but later he took me aside.

He told me to give up my dreams. He tried to explain it delicately, but I was too young to really understand. The fact was, only benders were commissioned as officers. It was something everyone _knew_ and did their best not to _say._ I'd never be the Earth King's general. I'd never make it further than a common foot soldier.

It was the first time I really understood there was a real difference between us and them. The first time I felt like less of a person. I was quieter after that. I talked less and listened more. I wanted him to be wrong. He wasn't, of course. I know that too well now. My brother was better than most of the other benders I met, but even then there were moments where he made the differences between us perfectly clear. He didn't mean it, or even realize he'd done anything, but it still hurt.

I was angry for a while, but my fire burned out. It was too hard to worry about ideals and injustice when I was forced to deal with the immediate concerns of where to live. How to eat. Nobody else seemed to care the way I did, so I learned to accept being second-best. I forced myself to get by with what I could get, and at some point that became good enough. I married and didn't know whether to hope my children would be like me or be benders.

When Amon came to the city, the news swept through the nonbenders like wildfire. I had felt alone, but when no word reached the benders of the city I felt that there were more of us out there, more like _me_. I felt less alone. It seemed too good to be true, but I saw him take the bending from the gang members. It was real. He was real.

I heard all the stories about chi-blockers, about a mysterious industrial sponsor who truly believed in our cause. Some of my friends went to those hidden basement schools and learned to fight. I wanted to join them, but I couldn't. After years of forcing myself to keep my head down and stay quiet, I couldn't dig up the same anger and energy I used to have. I couldn't be a revolutionary the way they were, but I desperately wanted to find some little gesture to show my support.

It was the posters. I wasn't the only one, of course. owasn't th posters. utionary the way they were, but I desperately wanted some little gesture energy and anger I used to have. They were printed by the thousand, boxes of them hauled to every meeting to be given to whoever would take them. The most daring people made a game of it. Where would it bother the benders? Glued to the walls of council members' houses, slipped into a police Satomobile when nobody was looking. Someone painted a dripping red circle in the middle of the council hall's doors.

I was not so brave. I took as many posters home as I could carry, but they all went into quiet, hidden corners, only a few at a time. I ran at the slightest hint of approaching footsteps, even when I knew support or the revolution was growing. Especially in these slums, it was much more likely to be one of us instead of a bender.

Amon's betrayal was a blow. I never would have thought it to be possible. He was one of them the whole time, just another bender using us for his own purposes. It was as bad as my brother. I had _believed_ in him. For the first time in years, I felt the hot rage bubbling up again. I wanted to be something better than what I was. I wanted to make a difference, even if it was only in a small way.

The movement was diminished, but not destroyed. What we felt was too strong for even the loss of Amon to wipe us out. The council laughed and talked about the restoration of peace, but that meant nothing. Their peace was the same as the old life. There was the appointment of a new Water Tribe representative to replace the bloodbender they'd had in office. Two waterbenders, a firebender, and earthbender, and an airbender. Where was our council member?

I still had my posters, and even if it was an empty gesture, I still went out every night to glue them to the walls. Did it mean anything now? Perhaps not, but I was too upset to stop. I was angry, all the time, and I couldn't let that spill over into my personal life. My livelihood still depended on the goodwill of benders, and I'd seen the way the captured revolutionaries were treated. I couldn't let the revolution die, though, not if there was something I could do to help. Perhaps somebody might see these posters and think Equality was a cause worth fighting for.

I was so lost in those thoughts that I didn't notice the approaching footsteps until it was too late. I turned to run, but the alley ended in a crumbling brick wall too tall for me to climb. I turned, trying to look composed and persuade myself that it was probably just another nonbender. Another believer. I put my remaining posters face down on the ground behind me and tossed the can of glue into a corner, but couldn't help wincing at the clatter it made.

When the Avatar turned the corner, I felt my stomach twist. This was it, then. The end of the road. Perhaps there had been a time when the Avatar spoke for _everyone_ in the world, but I knew the realities of life now. I tried desperately to think of some tale where a past Avatar had shown mercy, but my mind was screaming too loudly for me to think. I knew how she felt about the Equalists. I was shaking. I couldn't run now if I tried. She had said something. I looked blankly at her, and she sighed and spoke again.

"What are you up to, then?"

It took a few tries before I managed to make a sound. "N- Nothing. I'm up to nothing."

She walked closer. I shut my eyes, waiting for the blow, but she went past me. I flinched away as her shoulder brushed mine. She started flipping papers with a toe as I silently begged her not to look and just leave. The posters were unmistakable. "That definitely looks like nothing."

The Avatar kept talking, but the blood was rushing so loudly through my ears that I could hardly hear her. This was my worst nightmare. She'd bring me in, and if I was lucky she wouldn't hurt me too badly. But they'd surely search my house and there was no chance they'd believe that all the other posters were just mine and not my family's-!

She stopped, and seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer. I managed, "Please, I have young children-"

She laughed, actually laughed. "What do you think I'm going to do? Just because I _can_ bend you into submission doesn't mean I _have_ to."

Was it a joke? Or was she just making fun of me? What answer did she want? My mouth opened and shut without a noise and she just laughed again. I hung my head and stared at my shoes. I wasn't sure if I was shaking with fear or anger now. Both.

I whispered, "I have a boy who's five and a girl who's only three and they'll be frightened if I don't come home tonight."

"I don't know... Showing Equalist support at a time like this is a pretty serious offense."

I shut my eyes and tried to take deep breaths. This was it. I'd known the risks when I got myself into this. "Please, _please_, don't blame my family. It was only me-"

She reached out to pat me on the shoulder. I tried not to cringe. "Aw, don't you worry! I'm out tonight looking for _real_ threats." She set fire to my posters with a gesture. "As long as you forget about this nonsense, I think we can put this all behind us."

I nodded dumbly. Of course. Anything you say, Avatar. She laughed to herself as she walked off down the alley and out of sight. I was frozen. It was some minutes before I trusted my legs enough to take a step. I didn't want to follow her. What if this had been some sick joke? As soon as I turned the corner, she'd say she hadn't meant it and of _course_ I was under arrest. Or she'd follow me back to my house. I sat down leaning against a wall with my head in my hands.

I stayed there for perhaps a half hour before I thought it might be safe to risk walking home. There were still hundred of posters sitting in my house, more than enough to justify sending me to prison. Was it really worth all the risk, just to show that I believed in the movement? It took me a while to decide. The first thing I would need was more glue.


End file.
